


That Long Black Cloud Is Coming Down

by FagurFiskur



Series: 30 (more) cheesy tropes [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Last Day On Earth, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 16:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2316806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/pseuds/FagurFiskur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know," Dean says, breaking Castiel from his reverie, "this could be our last night on earth."</p><p>Despite the fact that Castiel should really be used to Dean's pessimism by now, it still bothers him to hear. The urge to comfort Dean is always there, even if he rarely indulges it. But he might as well tonight. "We have been up against impossible odds before."</p><p>"I guess." Dean's voice is flat, impossible to read. "Any idea how you wanna spend it?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Long Black Cloud Is Coming Down

**Author's Note:**

> 30 (more) cheesy tropes: #8 Last night on earth
> 
> I'm finally writing again and it feels so good~
> 
> This drabble is a companion piece to another drabble from my first cheesy tropes challenge, Put My Guns in the Ground. I decided not to warn for major character death, since that doesn't happen in this drabble, but that is where it's heading just so y'all know.
> 
> Title is taken from Knockin' on Heaven's Door by Bob Dylan.

The clock is striking twelve.

It is their last night on earth.

It isn't the first time. Quite possibly not even the last, even if they do all die. Despite having died numerous times already, Castiel has not been allowed eternal rest yet. He isn't sure how he feels about that right now, the possibility that tomorrow might not be the end. He's trying not to dwell on it.

"You know," Dean says, breaking Castiel from his reverie, "this could be our last night on earth."

Despite the fact that Castiel should really be used to Dean's pessimism by now, it still bothers him to hear. The urge to comfort Dean is always there, even if he rarely indulges it. But he might as well tonight. "We have been up against impossible odds before."

"I guess." Dean's voice is flat, impossible to read. "Any idea how you wanna spend it?"

"I don't know," Castiel says, unwilling to indulge Dean's morbid train of thought.

"Just gonna sit here quietly?"

Castiel frowns. He's currently standing. Leaning against the kitchen counter, yes, but still standing. It takes him a moment to realize that Dean is referencing another one of their last nights on earth. A terrible suspicion enters his mind. "You're not planning on taking me to a brothel, are you?"

Dean laughs, warm and beautiful, and Castiel's heart swoops oddly at the sound. It's the same feeling he always gets at hearing Dean laugh, but it's been a long time since that last happened. It's disorienting but Castiel finds he doesn't mind one bit.

"Not what I had in mind," Dean says, still smiling slightly.

"What did you have in mind, then?"

Castiel immediately wants to take the question back as the smile slips off Dean's face and his shoulders stiffen. "Uh..."

Before Dean can say anything else, Castiel quickly interjects, "You don't have to answer." He doesn't like the nervous tension Dean is suddenly radiating, or that he has no idea what caused in the first place. It had sounded like an innocent enough question to Castiel.

"No, I do," Dean insists. "I want to. I just... I'm not sure how to say this." He laughs again, this time an uncomfortable chuckle. "You really have no idea where I'm going with this?"

Castiel thinks back on their short conversation, shakes his head when nothing comes to mind. It frustrates him, more than it probably should. He's gotten better at reading Dean than he used to be, but apparently not good enough.

"Okay." Dean nods, eyes cast off to the side. He looks deep in thought, and for the first time Castiel notices a light flush in his cheeks. It's possible he's been drinking, although that still doesn't explain his strange behavior. "So I'm gonna do something and if you... you react how you wanna react, I don't care. I mean, I do care, but if this is the last chance that I'm ever gonna get then I'm not gonna waste it. Not again."

"All right," Castiel says slowly, still not understanding.

Dean's been leaning against the kitchen counter, opposite Castiel, but now he straightens and steps forward. He comes close, close enough to touch, and Castiel feels his breath catch in his throat, before the realization of what's happening has even hit. Then Dean is bracing himself against the counter, leaning in. He doesn't stop until he's close enough so that Castiel could count the freckles on his cheeks if he were so inclined (he doesn't need to, he already knows the exact number of freckles adorning Dean's skin. He put them there himself, after all).

When Castiel doesn't move away, Dean closes the gap. Their lips meet and Castiel surges against the touch without second thought, raising his arms and wrapping them around Dean, pulling him even closer. Dean makes a wonderful noise against his lips and deepens the kiss, igniting a heat in Castiel's gut that spreads through his body until he feels like he's on fire in the best way possible.

It doesn't last for long but it feels like an eternity, and by the time they pull apart they're both heaving for breath. Castiel doesn't even technically need to breathe, but his body mirrors Dean's anyway, as if the extra oxygen in his lungs will help him understand just what happened.

"I..." Dean licks his lips, drawing Castiel's eyes to the motion. "I'm guessing you don't have a problem with this?"

The question is too stupid for any verbal response, so Castiel just grabs the lapels of Dean's shirt and pulls him in for another, longer, kiss. He can barely make any sense of what he's feeling, it's all so overwhelming and good and _why haven't they been doing this all along_.

"Uh... guys?"

Dean pulls away and Castiel almost chases him until he catches himself. Sam is standing in the doorway, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Didn't mean to interrupt anything," he says, and it's clear from his voice that he's sorry. "But we need to get this ritual done by morning if we want any hope of beating this thing."

"Right." Dean clears his throat. "Give us a minute?"

"Sure." Sam shifts on his feet. "You know, it's about time-"

"Go," Dean barks and Sam obeys, laughing.

Castiel slumps against the counter. Dean's hands are still braced against it, encircling Castiel within his arms, but no longer touching. "We should go help him."

"Yeah." Dean backs away, removing his hands from the counter.

He's drawing back into himself. He's closing off, and Castiel hates to see it, so he grabs Dean's hand before he can tuck it underneath his armpit. He pulls him for another kiss, quick and chaste.

Dean is looking strangely at him when he pulls back. Then he seems to shake himself, and he's smiling once again. "Let's go kick this thing in the ass."

Castiel can feel a smile breaking out on his own face.

The time is seven minutes past twelve.

It is their last night on earth. Not for the first time. But they're happy, for now, and that's really all that matters.


End file.
